In the Eye of the Beholder
by Kasey
Summary: Everybody loves him... but what are their reasons? Short looks into their views on the matter. PG-13 for a small dash of language; nothing more. Comments and critiques make me a very happy author. COMPLETE!!
1. Naoe Nagi

This is a fic that came to me out of the blue... have you ever noticed that everybody seems to love Omi? There's almost always someone who can make some sort of sweet, emotional connection to him.  
  
Well, here are my reasons! Starting with our youngest bishonein, going to the oldest (aw, c'mon... 27's not *that* old!!... it depends on your point of view, yes?)  
  
Yes, it's very short... I should have compiled them all into one, but as an artist *ducks white-board erasors and TI-82s from 6th graders* I feel it is more... potent... dynamic *throttles thesaurus*... if you read them one character at a time.  
  
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head.  
  
Warning: A little language, here and there. Not necessarily boy-boy love as we think of shonein-ai and yaoi, but more... love on a person-to-person scale; friendship, maybe. Take this all with a grain of salt... and maybe a crystal of sugar.  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Naoe Nagi-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Or, can everyone else see in him what I see?  
  
I've seen him at the flower shop. The way he gently handles flowers, holding them by the stems so as not to bruise the delicate petals... I wish someone had handled me like that. The harsh beatings I've been served, the cruel words, the uncaring pokes and prods as they tested me for my powers... they could all disappear, if he were to touch me.  
  
I've seen him on missions. His face as he reaches his objective, the expression as his target dies, and part of him dies with them... I wish there was still enough of me to die with my victims, like that. If he were to ever complete his mission to kill me, would part of him die with me, too? Could I take part of him with me? I would treasure that piece of him through whatever pains Hell inflicted on me. I would even be happy for the small redemption, but only if it were he who killed me.  
  
I've seen him in school. He offers a hand to someone who has fallen, or carries on a conversation, his blue eyes sparkling as he warms to the subject... I wish I could talk to people like that. He would talk to me, and I could talk back. We would share secrets and we would laugh, and we would be friends... if we weren't enemies.  
  
In his killing, he is saving. He is recovering and nurturing lost souls.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
He lets me dream again.  
  
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	2. Hidaka Ken

Nobody likes my fic!! Maybe the sections are just too short... but if you want *more*, you have to *tell* me!!  
  
Of course... it *could* be the fact that classes are underway, again, and everyone's probably drinking hot tea and trying to get their eyes to uncross after their first *expletive* music theory classes...  
  
See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Hidaka Ken-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Is it his beauty? His personality? Certainly not his job description...  
  
When I look at him during the day, I see a seventeen-year-old boy with honey-blond hair and a cheerful, optimistic personality. He has these huge, sky blue eyes that reflect every emotion from ecstatic joy, to affront, to heart-melting sympathy. And his voice is just as open. He is in love with the world, and the world is good to him.  
  
When I look at him at night, as we sneak through alleys and high-rise buildings, I see a seasoned killer. His mind is trained, perfectly honed to see our target, and to find the most efficient way of completing our mission. His eyes are no longer emotional, nor is his voice. They are not monotonous, though... they are sharp, aware, and calculating. His entire soul goes into the mission, and those open emotions are lost in the dark night.  
  
When I look at him in the morning, after the mission, I see a tired young man. His eyes and voice are dead, and he tries so hard to cover them with a happy smile and cheerful greeting. Perhaps he fools the customers that come to buy flowers from our store, but his eyes don't sparkle the way they will in the afternoon, when he has had some time to recover from whatever brutal deed he took part in the night before.  
  
Inside, I think he's still a little boy, looking out at the big, wide world with wonder.  
  
He's never been innocent. He's been a killer since he was six years old, and having that on your slate immediately ages you. Every morning, he seems to be ten times his true age, as his actions weigh him down, pulling him into the deep recesses of depression.  
  
But he comes out of it. As the sun crosses the sky, real smiles come onto his face. When he sees a chance to help someone, or just to make them feel better, he jumps at it. He loves to make people smile.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
He makes me smile.  
  
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	3. Farfarello

*trumpet fanfare* People seem to like Farfie, and since he's the next eldest in the line-up... here he is, in all his poetic glory. Enjoy!  
  
See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Farfarello-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Maybe they see the angel, trapped on Earth, as I do.  
  
He is not an angel of God, nor is he an angel of Satan. He is simply an angel, in the purest form of the word. To God, he must seem like a demon of Hell as he kills mercilessly and efficiently. But to Satan, he must be an arch-angel, one of God's warriors, killing those who bring pain and misery to innocent souls.  
  
His halo is tarnished, and his wings are clipped. He is stuck on Earth, with the rest of us. Still, he is an angel. Living beauty, an embodiment of everything light and dark at the same time... he arrests my mind with his love and his hate at the same time.  
  
At the same time...  
  
Are we so different, this angel, and myself? We kill the same way, the same people, even... but from different sides of a law that will have no standing on Judgement Day, but means everything to the people of this world... to him, and to myself.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
He is my opposite, my attraction; his light, and my dark.  
  
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	4. Fujimiya Aya

Okay, so it seems like people like Farfarello... so here's another odd match-up. Tell me what you think!  
  
See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Fujimiya Aya-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Who can help but love him for what he is?  
  
He is everything that anyone wants in another human. He is kind, compassionate, loving, caring... I could go on forever, trying to describe him, but the only way I can sum it all up is in saying his name...  
  
My life, my young life was ruined. My loving parents gone, and my sister... my best friend... dead to the world, living only through the will of the machines that surround her. I sold my soul to keep her alive, bent on thoughts of revenge, and the hope that, Heaven and Hell... someday she would wake up.  
  
I immediately forgot my happy past. I became a hunter, tracking down the beasts that cause misery and pain of the type I had suffered. And as I gave my spirit to Hell a thousand-fold, I remembered her as she had been, and as she was... and all I felt was the need for vengeance.  
  
Then I met him. He had *no* past, *no* family. He had never known the love of a parent or a sibling, yet he still reflected a light of happiness, even content. No matter how lonely or bleak his life was... He still knew the meaning of love.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
When he's around, I know there is hope for me.  
  
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	5. Kudou Youji

See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?  
  
As a small note: I'm really not sure who's older, Youji or Schu, but I'm gonna sum up all the S/Y pairing's I've read, extrapolate, and assume Youji's the younger of the two.  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Kudou Youji-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Maybe they all see the living, wild spirit in him.  
  
Perhaps I'm thinking about it wrong... his spirit isn't wild, as someone might think of *my* spirit as wild. His is untamed. It knows no boundaries. I could think of his spirit as... butterflies? Free and hard to catch, but beautiful. Or maybe as his kitten namesake... Yeah, he is like a kitten, sometimes. You bat their ears, and they still come back to purr at you, but you have to be careful, because they've got sharp claws.  
  
My spirit, though... really is a spirit. It's a ghost, a poltergeist haunting through what used to be my body. At night, it comes out to dance and rave and show the world what I used to be... but as the sun rises, it falls back in the depths of my subconscious, and it is dead again. I am dead.  
  
All I could ask for was some fun. A little party here, a little love there, a smoke, a drink... I was content with my place in life. Then my life shattered around me. Love was gone, so the smoking, the drinking, and the partying all increased to make up for it... but how can they fill such a void as is left by love?  
  
But there he was. I was a pack-a-day smoker, alcoholic when I had the time, partying from sunset to sunrise, killing myself slowly and wondering when it would all be over... and then there he was. His overflowing spirit met mine, and filled the black hole in my heart.  
  
Suddenly, I didn't need the nicotine, or the alcohol, anymore. I could just watch him, and be content.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
He's saving my life.  
  
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	6. Schuldich

Oy gevalt... Sorry this took so long to update, but there have been a number of difficulties in the world, as of late, my *expletive* ANTH 205 class being only one of them...  
  
This is my favorite chapter of this fic... that's a personal opinion, though. I always appreciate people telling me which ones they like best.  
  
See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?  
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"  
-Schuldich-  
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. No one else can hear what goes on in his mind, but I can.  
  
His thoughts are like grapes and strawberries. Sometimes sweet... sometimes bitter.  
  
When I fight against him, I savor every word, every phrase, and every memory that crosses his mind. Sometimes he is upset, because he doesn't want to be fighting. Sometimes he is scared, because he knows that he can never know what to expect from me. Sometimes, his mind is filled with pictures of his sister, and he hates me.  
  
He hates me.  
  
No one has ever felt strongly enough about me to hate me. Dislike, yes. Like, even. People have liked me. People have been angry with me, disgusted, affronted, *charmed*... Gott, they've asked for me at parties or wanted to shoot me on the spot... but never have they *needed* me.  
  
Need is a funny word.  
  
People think that when you *need* someone, you *love* them. You cherish them, and you crave them by your side, or at the very least to talk to... to know they care about you as much as you care for them. Kiss them when they're close, make love to them. Declare that you will live with them forever, in sickness and in health, 'till death do you part, *balderdash*!!  
  
He needs me... but he doesn't love me. It's the opposite. He hates me. He hates me, and he *needs* me, because he needs to kill me. He needs to avenge his sister, he needs my blood, to pay for hers. He hates me. He wants to kill me. It's in his mind. It's his objective, his own personal goal in life.  
  
And that's why I love him.  
  
Nobody's ever needed me, before.  
  
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	7. Bradley Crawford

See first installation for explainations, disclaimers, warnings, etc. But, then, of course... I dunno what the heck you think you're doing here if you haven't read the first chapter, and if you have, then why do you care about reading explainations, disclaimers and warnings, because you've already read them, right?   
  
Last installation, cats! I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, I *cherish* replies, which boost my ego as an author, and I have this odd, unexplainable tendency to write more... *coughhintcough*   
  
Das!! Enjoy!   
  
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"   
-Bradley Crawford-   
  
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Anyone can fall in love with a pretty face or a cheerful laugh, even someone who's never loved before.   
  
My life has been pre-planned. Some Fate decided that my life would never be subject to the woven pattern of time, so my thread was pulled out, burned... I stand on the outside, watching the tapestry as it is made. My retaliation... is to change the design.   
  
But have you ever noticed... that sometimes small things are out of your grasp? You can plan to take care of them, plan to get rid of them, plan, plan, and plan... but it can never happen. And you don't know why.   
  
I do know why.   
  
It's him. He is a thread that refuses to lie flat in the tapestry. He prefers to unravel, and gather again around his friends and his family, doing *exactly* what he chooses... and I can't stop him.   
  
No matter what I do, he has a happy ending. It scares me, frightens me, even... that there is no future I can make for him. I did not even cause him pain by killing his sister... I was not involved in that decision. Nothing I, myself, can do or influence will ultimately bring complete misery to him.   
  
He escapes me. He smiles, laughs, and is happy, and I can't stop it. I cannot force him into the mold I came from, the one where you come out cold, heartless... uncaring. All are words commonly used to describe me, and I wouldn't deny it if the question were put to me. He is beyond my evil.   
  
And that's why I love him.   
  
There's no way I can make him sad.   
  
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The End   
  
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